


Red Roses

by KorruptBrekker



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: High School AU, Human AU, Logicality(background), M/M, Nonbinary Virgil, Panic Attacks, hanahaki, not beta read we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KorruptBrekker/pseuds/KorruptBrekker
Summary: A simple, dark, vent fic. I wanted to try my hand at Hanahaki and it got a little out of hand. Reader discretion is advised.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders
Comments: 13
Kudos: 47





	Red Roses

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGERS: Panic attacks, graphic depictions of violence, death
> 
> Reader discretion is advised.

It started with a cold. It was around November, when the air began to chill and the leaves began to fall and crisp. Most people got sick around this time, so Virgil paid it no mind. Not to mention, he was one to stress himself to sickness, and end of semester was really getting to him.

That’s how it began. He never could have prepared for how it escalated.

* * *

Hanahaki was somewhat common where he lived. In the small town of Chimera, it was a semi common occurrence. Common enough that people knew what it was and how to ease it, but uncommon enough that it was always a shock whenever someone got it.

That’s why, when Virgil woke up one day with an uncomfortably sore throat and a substantial case of nausea, he wasn’t worried. He threw on his chest binder, a  _ Get Scared _ long sleeve shirt, some black leather pants, some platform boots with purple accents, and his signature black and purple patchwork hoodie. He packed extra water and some Tylenol in his bag and headed off to school. Pat was waiting at the front doors for him, clad in his thin rimmed, round glasses, a big, puffy, blue jacket, a lime green t-shirt tucked into some high waisted corduroy pants, and clunky sneakers.

“Hiya Virge! You look cozy!” Patton called, waving enthusiastically.

“Right back at ya.” He replied when he reached Patton. “Where are Ro and Lo?”

Patton pointed right behind Virgil, who proceeded to turn, watching his friends walk up to meet them.

Logan was dressed smartly in a navy blue, diagonal zippered coat, tan slim jeans, black vans, and a grey beanie. With his glasses he looked like a hipster programmer, though Virgil knew he was just a huge space and science nerd. Roman, on the other hand, was dressed as extravagantly as ever. He wore a royal red and white letter jacket, a pastel yellow t shirt, light grey joggers, some red and white high tops, and today he was wearing a gorgeous shade of burgundy lipstick. He had his black hair swept effortlessly to the side, his warm brown skin contrasting gorgeously with his light colour palette. His eyes were a deep, forest green, and he had a smile that lit up the room. Virgil couldn’t help but flush around him, though it was always pierced through and shattered with the knowledge that Ro would never like him back.

“Mornin’ boys!” He beamed, inhaling deeply. “Ahh, that crisp autumn air, nothing like it, huh? Say, why don’t we all head over to that coffee shop downtown during lunch and pick up some festive drinks, hm? Nothing like a little pumpkin spice to liven up the day!”

Patton beamed and nodded enthusiastically as he wrapped himself around Logan’s arm. “Sounds perfect! Lo? Virge?”

Logan smiled, ruffling Patton’s hair. “I could certainly go for come capitalism for lunch.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’m down or whatever.”

“Perfect!” The theatre jock announced, beaming. “Lunch it is.” And with that, he marched into the school building as if he owned the place. He practically did.

Roman Moreno was the most popular kid in school. He was good with all the teachers, and was nice to everybody. He was in the theatre club, and got the lead role in most plays the school put on. When he wasn’t running his lines or rehearsing or studying, he was practicing with his teammates as captain of an out of school soccer club. Not to mention, he was openly gay, but no one seemed to care. There were other kids that came out and got bullied, but not Roman. He seemed to emit this air that made it impossible for people to dislike him. And Virgil was deep in it. He’d been crushing on Roman for the past couple years(his 10th year and Roman’s 9th), and it had only gotten worse over the years.

Unlike Roman, Virgil wasn’t as vocal about his identity or sexuality. He was nonbinary and AFAB, being okay with both they/them and he/him pronouns, but using he/him most of the time. He didn’t have a whole lot of dysphoria, which he was extremely grateful for, but he had a substantial amount of internalized transphobia. Not to mention, he was also pan, which tacked a whole other level of complicated onto things. The only people he’d told about his gender and sexuality were his father and Patton. Patton was very accepting and quickly went to the teachers(with Virgil’s permission of course), and got them to use his preferred name and pronouns. So, technically, the only people who knew he was trans that he was close to were Patton and his dad. His ma wasn’t really in the picture which didn’t make things any easier, but at least his dad was accepting and loving, and that was much more than most could say.

The bell rang, and Virgil headed off to class, blaring metal in his clunky headphones. The first part of the day went by in a blur. Virgil didn’t pay much attention to the teachers, too busy keeping up with the group chat he, Lo, Pat, and Ro had. He got caught a couple times with his phone, but was lucky enough not to get it taken away. Finally, after what felt like ages of waiting, the lunch bell rang. He packed up his bag and hurried out to the front doors wherein he would meet the others and they’d head down to the coffee shop.

They all arrived, hopped into Roman’s car, and headed off. They picked their usual spot at the coffee shop and sat down, Roman standing in line to take their orders. Virgil was about to put his headphones back on before Patton spoke up.

“Hey Virge, you alright? You look paler than usual.”

Virgil nodded, smiling slightly. His throat had progressively gotten worse over just the few hours he’d been in class, but his nausea had calmed down. Silver lining. “Yeah, I’m good. Just a little cold is all. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, but remember, you can always call one of us if you need anything. Lo and I would love to come over and make you soup.”

“I have a couple recipes I’d like to try in the event that you want any.” Logan offered.

Virgil nodded and smiled. “Thanks guys. I-” Just before he could get his next sentence out, he was consumed with a burning sensation in his throat and lungs. “B-be right back.” He choked, rushing to the restroom.

He gripped the sink, overwhelmed with a brutal coughing fit. It was as if he was coughing up glass. He hacked over the sink, going dizzy with the intensity. Eventually, whatever was lodged into his throat fell into his mouth and he froze. With shaky hands he pulled a petal from his tongue, blood and saliva coming off in strings from his tongue and the inside of his cheeks. His mouth tasted like rose and iron and his eyes widened as he stared at the royal red rose petal in between his finger and thumb. He felt his chest close up as he gasped for breath, his mind spiraling in panic. He let the petal fall into the sink in favour of gripping the edges of it, trying to ground himself. He clenched his teeth, remembering an exercise Logan had taught him.

Five things you can see:  _ Sink. Petal. Blood. Bangs. Hands. _

Four things you can feel:  _ The sink. My shirt. My jacket. The wall. _

Three things you can hear:  _ My breathing. The music through the speakers. The dripping of the sink. _

Two things you can smell:  _ My deodorant. The mildew in the corner. _

One thing you can taste:  _ Rose petals. _

Virgil was still shaking, but he could think semi clearly again. He took a deep breath, wincing at the glass- the thorns in his throat. He closed his eyes, taking all the deep breaths he could stand, trying to calm himself down enough to go back with the others. With a last deep breath and a wince, he threw the petal in the garbage, hiding it with space paper towels, and walked out. When he arrived back at the table, all of his friends looked at him concerned.

“Hey, Virge, you doing alright?” Roman asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Virgil shrugged the hand off, nodding, not daring to look Roman in the eye. It was bad enough he had to be around him, pining 24/7, but now it would be obvious. You could only hide Hanahaki for so long before someone found out. It wasn’t necessarily the most discrete of diseases. Virgil stifled another coughing fit, visibly wincing in the process.

Patton looked at him, concern decorating his features. “Virge?”

“C-can you just take me home?” he asked, voice slightly raspy.

Roman nodded. “Of course. I’ll drop you off.”

All four of them got back into Roman’s car, and in just a few minutes, Virgil was back at home. Without much talking, he said goodbye and walked into his house, quickly removing his binder and falling onto his bed as another coughing fit wracked his body. This brought tears to his eyes, both from the physical and emotional pain. He curled up as he pulled a few petals from his mouth tossing them in his garbage bin. He was going to die, alone in his room, all because he was unlucky enough to fall in love with someone who didn’t love him back. He shook, sobbing into his pillow.

As he pulled more petals from his mouth, he noticed something at the back of his throat, near his uvula. He realized it was a stem. He squeezed his eyes tight, reaching back into his throat and grabbing the stem, beginning to pull it out. He screamed and cried in pain as the thorns dragged themselves along his throat. With one swift yank he pulled out the rest stem sobbing at the feeling of his esophagus being shredded. He swallowed painfully, staring at the bloodied stem before him. He could see the remainder of the rose heads, and spared a glance at his garbage can to see the amount of petals he’d coughed up in the span of a few hours. The pile filled about a third of his small trash can. Virgil whimpered both in fear and in pain. He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to die. He couldn’t die. He was 17. He was too young to die. He-

Virgil was brought out of his spiral with the opening of his door. Patton’s soothing voice came through as he entered. “Hey, your dad let me in. You didn’t answer when I knocked and I heard you crying and wanted to- Oh my God Virgil..”

Within seconds Virgil was wrapped into Patton’s comforting embrace. Virgil, despite the immense pain it caused, sobbed into Patton’s shoulder. “I-I don’t wanna die Pat..” He said, voice hoarse and cracked.

Patton shushed him, rubbing circles on his back. “Don’t talk, Virge. I’m gonna get you some tea and clove, okay? That’ll help numb the pain. Does that sound alright?”

Virgil reluctantly pulled away and nodded, wiping his eyes and nose on his hoodie sleeve.

Patton nodded and smiled encouragingly, then got up and went to the kitchen to make Virgil some tea. In the time he was gone, Virgil had gotten under his covers and was blasting his music in an attempt to calm himself down and distract from the increasing difficulty of breathing.

He returned with some tea and some pasta. “Here, I assume you haven’t eaten, so here’s some spaghetti. It should go down pretty easily, okay?”

Virgil nodded, taking a sip of the tea and then, slowly, beginning to eat.

After a beat of silence, Patton asked, “Who is it..?”

Virgil took out his phone and typed up something, showing it to Patton.

His eyes widened as he looked at the text. “Roman? Oh, honey, come here.” Patton pulled him into another hug, muttering comforts as he held him.

The two stayed like that for a while, in each other’s company, both too afraid to leave the other.

* * *

Roman got a text that evening from Logan that Virgil wouldn’t be attending school for a while. Roman groaned, dramatically falling into his couch. “Why must you play with me like this, Oh Great Universe! Just as I was planning to confess to my dearest stormcloud you pull this!” He let his arm fall, his phone tumbling to the ground. He let out a sigh a level of extra only Roman himself could muster, then reluctantly sat up.

“I’ll just have to revise my plan then.” With that, he got up, dusted off his joggers, grabbed his phone, and got to planning. Even if Virgil was sick, that wouldn’t stop Roman from confessing his feelings.

* * *

Virgil slept terribly that night. He could barely get to sleep with his anxiety going off the walls, and when he finally got to sleep, it was light and he was promptly woken up with a hacking fit. The petals had evolved to flower heads, and the stems were becoming more frequent. He wasn’t aware Hanahaki worked this quickly. He thought it took weeks to build up, not hours. But nevertheless, by the time 02:00 rolled around, his ability to breathe was cut short substantially. His nose was filled with the now sickening smell of roses, and his mouth was permanently stained with the metallic taste of his own blood. It was torture. He could  _ feel _ himself dying. He could feel himself getting weaker with every coughing fit, as less and less oxygen made it into his bloodstream.

07:00 rolled around and his alarm for school went off. He tried to take a deep breath, but due to the flowers taking root in his respiratory system it was shallow and just sent him into another coughing fit. It was getting harder and harder to remove the flowers from his system. He could feel them climbing up his throat, he could feel the uncomfortably sharp thorns and the itchy petals as they inched towards his mouth. He swore he felt a flower actually bloom in his throat a few hours ago. But, that could also be delirium. Lack of sleep and lack of oxygen was a combination for disaster. He hadn’t accepted his fate, but at this point, he was too weak to fight. A soft knock on his door brought him back to reality.

His father stepped in and sat down on his bed. “Virge, buddy, I wanted to talk to you. I know this is scary, but I have faith in you, son.” He put a hand on Virgil’s. “You aren’t going to die from this. I know you aren’t. I just, I wanted to say I love you. One can’t help but think of mortality. And even though I know in my heart you aren’t going to die, I still feel like I have to say it.”

Virgil nodded, smiling weakly. He squeezed his father’s hand in reciprocation, too weak to speak. His father smiled, teary eyed, and kissed his head. “You can beat this kiddo, I know it. Now, Patton’s here with Logan. I’ll let them chat with you.”

With that, his father left, letting Patton and Logan enter. They both looked really worried. It was Logan who spoke first. “I was doing research on Hanahaki, and found that the time until asphyxiation is extremely unpredictable. It could be anywhere from a few hours to months. Judging by your current state, it looks like we don’t have long. I told Roman to come over here. I didn’t tell him why, I just said it was important. I figured you’d want to tell him yourself.”

Virgil nodded, smiling slightly. He was acutely aware of the petals and vines in his throat as Logan and Patton sat down. He tried to inhale. He couldn’t. Frantically, he gasped for breath, but the petals and thorns were so dense he couldn’t. Patton stared in horror as Virgil’s chest convulsed and Logan grabbed his phone and dialed 911.

Virgil’s head was swimming as he gasped for breath. Logan and Patton’s voices were muddled and far away. His vision started to blur and tunnel. The pain was unbearable and he was barely aware of the tears leaking from his eyes. He faintly heard his door swing open as everything faded to black.

* * *

Roman crashed into the room to see Virgil laying in his bed, bloodied petals and vines surrounding him. Patton was sobbing and Logan was sitting on his bed, gaze unfocused. Roman watched in abject horror as roses and vines spread from Virgil’s mouth, forming a horrific bouquet. His eyes were glassy, his terrified expression imprinted into his face. Roman dropped the bouquet of red roses he was holding and fell to his knees. An earth shattering scream ripped from his throat echoed around the room. He rushed over to Virgil, sobbing over his lifeless body. It was still warm.


End file.
